


Hold On

by crossingwinter



Series: Let Go [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (because they just would not stop fucking), F/M, holy fuckening batman, i don’t know what’s more disgusting: the porn or the sickeningly sweet established relationship, i have -3378304 self controls, like its prequel, this would just not fucking stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: A year later, a different experience with the Brown Line.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HI HERE HAVE A SMUTTY SEQUEL THAT REALLY DOESN'T NEED TO EXIST BUT GUESS WHO HAS TWO THUMBS AND NO SELF CONTROL.
> 
> HOW THE HELL IT ENDED UP TWO CHAPTERS LONG IS STILL BEYOND ME BUT HERE WE AREEEEEE

_I hate the Brown Line._

Rey glances at her phone, and immediately pulls up Twitter to check the CTA’s account. _Brown, Green, Orange, Purple & Pink Line trains are experiencing delays due to mechanical problems near Clark/Lake.   _ Then she loads up the _Find my Friends_ app and, sure enough, there’s Ben’s dot, stuck at State and Lake.  

_Is it worth switching out to the Red if you’re at State and Lake?_

_There are Red Line delays too.  Signal malfunction at Fullerton.  So I’m really fucked no matter which way you go._

Rey frowns at her phone, and bites her lip.  She can’t tell if Ben’s going to be annoyed at the response that leaps across her mind, if he’s too stir crazy and angry from the delays, or if it’ll make him smile.  She guns for the latter.

_Or rather, not fucked._

She waits with bated breath as she sees him start to type.

_I just made a truly embarrassing noise so thanks for that._

_Clearly the Brown Line thinks I owe it or something._

_We’re lucky Tinder isn’t also trying to collect too._

_Uber?_

_Google maps is showing so much red on the streets I thought the entire city of Chicago was going into cardiac arrest._

_It probably is._

_Get home._

_As soon as I can._

Rey settles a little more comfortably on the couch, and turns on Ben’s huge television, idly flicking through his Netflix account to see if she can find something light to watch to keep her mind off Ben’s absence and the stack of boxes in the periphery of her vision.

She should unpack.  She really should. It’s been a month and she’s still half-living out of cardboard boxes.  But BB is sitting on the top of the stack and she’s very sure that the cat would be very peeved if Rey removed him from his throne in order to destroy his throne.  She doesn’t even know how he got up there.

 _You’re making excuses, Rey,_ she can practically hear Dr. Tano say.  Ben hasn’t said a word about how Rey hasn’t finished unpacking yet.  He hasn’t said a word, but she has noticed the way his gaze sometimes slides to them when he thinks she isn’t paying attention.   _You moved in with him.  You’ve been with him for a year.  Why aren’t you unpacking?_

Exactly a year.  And of course the Brown Line is causing trouble today—today, when she wants nothing more than to crawl onto Ben’s lap and kiss him senseless because a whole year.  

She’d never dreamed that she’d be dating someone for a whole year.  Much less that she’d have moved in with him, leaving the safe security of a shared apartment with Finn and Rose behind in Ravenswood.

Rey turns the TV back off and gets to her feet, squaring her shoulder.  “Come on BB,” she tells the cat. “Dinner.” And she heads to the kitchen.  The cat doesn’t follow her right away, but appears the moment he hears her unzip the ziplock bag that keeps his dry food fresh.  He starts purring as he eats, and Rey rubs her hand along his spine, his rear hitching up when she reaches his tail.

He’ll be there for at least another five minutes, which is enough time for her to unstack the boxes he’d been sitting on.

She doesn’t really know when she’d acquired this many clothes.  Ben had cleared out space in his closet and his dresser for her, but she’s quite confident it’s not enough—and this is after she’d weeded her stuff and donated to a thrift shop.  But she makes a valiant effort as she puts her winter things in the bottom of the chest of drawers in the bedroom. There are some books that will find their way onto one of Ben’s living room shelves, and some DVDs that will be added to his sparse DVD collection.  She has already unpacked her toolkit—which is better than his—and the shitty kitchen items she’d had in her old place had been left with Finn and Rose.

 _See?_ she thinks to herself as she flattens the boxes and carries them out to the recycling.   _You’ve moved in with your boyfriend.  Your boyfriend who loves you. And who has loved you for a year.  And will continue to love you. And his mom likes you too._ That had meant more than Rey had thought it would—that Leia Organa would like her.

 _Han would have loved you,_ Leia had told her while Ben had been in the bathroom last summer when she’d come to visit for her annual trip to the Chicago beaches.  Rey hadn’t known what to say to that. There’d been a lump in her throat as Leia had taken her hand and squeezed it and told her to call her for any reason.  Something Rey thought she might even take her up on, even if she hadn’t yet, which was major progress on some front that she didn’t want to name.

 _You’re committing yourself to this and it’s ok,_ she tells herself as she makes her way back to the apartment.   _You’re happy and you’re letting yourself be happy.  You’re in love, and he’s in love with you and you’re letting yourself be loved._

She checks her phone again.  There are no more texts from Ben, and Find My Friends places him somewhere around Sedgewick.  So progress, if minimal. Hopefully they’ve cleared up the bullshit at Fullerton and he’ll make the rest of the trip decently quickly.

“I know,” she tells BB who is now sitting where she’d been on the couch, looking very judgemental.  “It was a nice throne, but it was getting to be ridiculous. I’ll get you one of those giant climby things.”  It will be fun to build, and she doesn’t have to pay rent anymore because Ben owns his apartment. “A really big one,” she adds.

BB yawns and she goes back into the bedroom.  She’d dumped most of the clothes she couldn’t fit into the dresser on the bed, which under any other circumstances would have been a silly plan, given that when she’d said goodbye to Ben on the train that morning, he’d promised to fuck her until she couldn’t breathe tonight.  

But unlike this time last year, the Brown Line isn’t trying to help them, apparently.

She shakes her head as she goes into the closet.  There’s some plastic boxes in there, mostly ones that contain Ben’s shoes.  She makes the executive decision that shoes don’t need to be kept in plastic boxes and that she’ll have a great deal of fun putting together a shoe rack and dumps the shoes on the floor, lining them neatly against the wall outside of the closet.  Then she begins putting some of her less-used clothes into the crates. They don’t need to be hung up—she’s never really been one for dresses and the skirts she wears to work are already hanging up in the closet—and, in all honesty, she may never touch them again but hadn’t quite been able to bring herself to get rid of them yet.

She hums tunelessly to herself as she folds, and sorts and organizes and doesn’t even shove BB out of the closet when he comes in, curious, and decides that one of the plastic bins now full of Rey’s clothes make for the perfect bedding.  “If I get you a cat tree, you’ll probably ignore it, won’t you,” she sighs, rubbing the cat behind the ears. He purrs up at her. “Yeah, you definitely prefer just shedding all over my stuff.”

She checks her phone again.  

_How are you holding up._

_Remember me fondly at my funeral because I’m going to die on this train._

Rey snorts.  

_Anything I can do to help?_

She knows he’s seen the message but he hasn’t replied, which means he’s likely trying to figure out a way to ask for a picture of her tits or something.  He gets silly about that. They’ve been together for a year, had fucked the day they’d met, but he still gets all _my mother raised me right_ about asking for dirty pictures.  

So Rey strips off her shirt and takes what she considers to be an artistic shot of her in the lacy bra she’d put on this morning to celebrate their anniversary (slapping Ben’s hands away as she’d gotten dressed and telling him _later_ ) and texts it to him.

_I know you don’t need a reminder, but I’m sending you one anyway._

_I’m in public._

_In very cramped quarters._

_I really can’t handle a hard-on right now._

Rey grins at the phone and runs her fingers along the lacey cup on her left until her nipple pops out.  Then she sends him another picture.

He doesn’t reply.  She can imagine him in his suit on the crowded train, trying to angle his phone away from anyone who might see the picture of her tits while also breathing very deeply, trying to control the rush of blood to his groin.  

Maybe she’s tormenting him.

But it’s their anniversary, and he’s not home yet and she wants to be fucked into the mattress and if it weren’t for the Brown Line, she’d be well on her way through a first round.

_What should I grubhub?_

_I love how you’re thinking about food right now._

_Well you’re not here to distract me._

_And yet you’ve managed to distract me thoroughly._

_Keep on topic, Solo.  What do you want to eat?_

_You._

_And don’t you dare say you._

_Too late._

_After me?_

_More you._

_And then maybe Thai because I’m a sentimental schmuck._

_Ordering now._

_How much you want to bet it’ll beat you here?_

_Don’t remind me._

_Just focus on those pics I sent._

_As if I could be doing anything else._

_What do you think would happen if I got out and pushed?_

_Electrocution??_

_Fair point._

Rey snorts and orders dinner for them, then goes back to the television and pulls up Netflix once again.  BB joins her after clearly calculating that she’ll be a more comfortable napping spot than the closet, curling up on her lap and purring as she pets him.  

Thirty minutes later, she hears keys in the lock and Ben comes through the door.  “I was hoping you’d still be shirtless,” he says almost at once, dropping his shoulder bag on the ground and smiling at her.  

“Seemed like a waste of time to put it back on,” she shrugs.  He comes over to the couch and bends to kiss her, his tongue slipping eagerly into her mouth.  He cups her cheek with one of his hands and the other drifts down to coax BB out of her lap.

The cat does not move.

“Oh come on,” Ben tells BB, who half-hisses as he tries to push him more.

“I destroyed his palace earlier.  He’s feeling a little mopey,” Rey tells him.

“ _He’s_ feeling a little mopey,” Ben grumbles.  Then he frowns and looks around, and it takes all of two seconds for his eyes to land on the spot where her stacked boxes had stood until this evening.  “You finished unpacking?”

“Yeah.”  Rey’s voice is a little breathier than she means it to be.  “I needed to do something while I waited.” She peeks up at him through her lashes and a moment later his lips are crashing against hers again, one hand weaving through her hair while the other shoves BB onto the ground unceremoniously.  Then he’s tugging her to her feet and they’re stumbling towards the bedroom together, lips locked and breathing rushed.

He topples her onto the bed and shrugs his jacket off.  He begins loosening his necktie, but Rey grabs the long strip of silk and tugs him down and a moment later his lips are on hers again, his torso hot and long against her skin.  

The trouble, eternally, with Ben’s clothes is that he always wears button downs to work, which makes it extremely frustrating to get him out of his clothes.  Because right now, Rey wants to keep kissing him, to have him flush against her, pressing her into the mattress with his full weight, deliciously comforting, but she also wants him naked about an hour ago, and in order to get him out of his button down, he doesn’t get to press her into the mattress.  She widens her legs and rubs herself against his hard-on through both of their pants and Ben groans into her mouth and his fingers tighten in her hair and he whispers, “Fuck,” but doesn’t go on because he’s kissing his way down her throat now and along the swooping neckline of her bra. He nips lightly at the skin and Rey arcs her chest up towards him, her hands in his hair now while his circle her nipples through the fabric until he gets impatient and pulls her breasts out over the top of the lace and starts kissing them, sucking at them, nibbling at them while she keeps rocking her hips against his chest.

“This bra,” he mutters into her breasts.  “Is a torture device.”

“It’s really not,” she replies, laughing.

“You haven’t been thinking about you in it all day,” he says and he does a thing with his mouth that makes her gasp and her fingers tighten in her hair.  She can feel him smile into her nipple. He likes it when she pulls his hair. She thinks that’s part of why he doesn’t cut it very frequently—that and when he does it makes his ears stick out.  She likes his ears. She likes his face. She likes his lips and the magic they’re working right now into her breasts.

“I’m wearing matching underwear,” she tells him and he positively freezes.  She thinks he might be quivering.

“Yeah, I’m really glad I didn’t have that information before now,” he tells her, sitting up.  His dick is straining in his pants, his eyes are dark and shining, his face is flushed and he licks his lips as he looks down at her.  Then his hands are on the waistline of her pants and he’s tugging them down her legs, groaning when he sees that she hadn’t been lying.  “Fuck,” he mutters again.

Rey props herself up on her elbows and grins up at him, very pleased with herself.  She’s never really felt much of a need to buy lingerie before. It’s dumb and expensive and it’s not like she’ll be wearing it for very long anyway.  But the expression on Ben’s face has convinced her that perhaps it might be worth her while to invest in a few other fun things.

He’s stripped her pants fully off her legs now and is about to lean forward to kiss some part of her—lips? Tits? Cunt? Could really go any direction—but Rey presses her bared foot to his chest.  “Uh uh,” she says, and she grabs his tie between her big toe and the next one. “Off.” And settles back against the bed, smiling as he hurries with his tie, and his button-down, and his undershirt, the muscles in his stomach and chest rippling in a way that makes Rey’s stomach lurch.  It’s been a year and she’s still not over his abs. She should be used to them by now, shouldn’t she? Should be used to every part of him.

When his hands drop to his belt, Rey shifts to her knees and pulls him forward again, kissing his chest, his neck, his ear, and whispering, “All right,” though she’s not really sure what she means.

He growls into her skin, though, and a moment later he’s kissing his way down her stomach again until his face is pressed into the lace above her pubic hair.

“The problem,” he says as he runs his hands along her thighs, widening them, “is that I don’t want to take these off.  But I need to take these off.”

“Do you?” she asks.

He’s running his fingers now along her slit and she can feel how wet she is because of the pressure of his fingers against the lace.  “To eat you out, they’re rather in the way.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t exactly expecting to wear them for very long,” she tries to tease.  God his fingers. He’s so damn good with his fingers. He’d given her the best handjob of her life a year ago and he’s only gotten better since then.  She’s melting into his fingers and her heart is pounding incredibly right now.

“All the same,” he says.

“I’ll wear them another time if you don’t rip them,” she promises and he snorts.  Very carefully, he tugs them down her legs and drops them on the floor by the bed and a moment later his face is buried between her thighs and Rey’s lungs do something where they try to sigh and gasp at the same time and she ends up making a choking sound that makes him stop licking and look up at her, concerned.

“Keep going,” she tells him.

“You ok?”  He knows the answer, though, and grins at her before his tongue returns to her clit, circling it almost unbearably slowly.  

“Ben,” she whines and she pushes her hips towards his lips.  “You promised.”

“Promised?”

“To fuck me until I can’t breathe.”  She tugs at his hair to prove the point.

When he looks up at her, his eyes are glinting.  “And I will,” he says. “But I also said I wanted to eat you and I’m not about to forget that after that fucking train ride.”

He drops his head again, and Rey wriggles against his tongue and a moment later he’s sliding first one finger, and then a second into her, gently rubbing at a spot that wants far more than gentleness.

“Is this payback for the pictures?” she whines, grinding into his face and hand.  It’s just not enough, and she wants so much more, he’s going to drive her mad if he keeps going this lightly.

“Possibly,” he replies easily into her cunt.  

“ _Ben_ ,” she whimpers, and he sucks her clit between his lips and adds a third finger.  She can feel pressure start to pool, but at this rate it’ll be another ten minutes before she comes.  She tugs at his hair and tries what she can to get more friction, but he presses his hand against her lower stomach and holds her still and if anything, she thinks his touch is getting _lighter,_ his fingers moving more slowly.  His tongue departs her clit to lick the moisture that’s leaking around his fingers away and when he pulls his fingers out of her, she lets out a sob.  

She can’t tell if it’s the sob that makes him take pity on her—or maybe it’s just that he’s ready to let her come, but a moment later the flats of his fingers are rubbing a wide circle over her swollen clit right as he slides his obscenely long tongue into her and a moment later she’s gasping and sighing in alternation—moaning a bit too.  Her vocal chords often do what they want when Ben’s, when he’s, when she’s...

He crawls up her again and nuzzles into her neck, resting his full weight on her because he knows she likes that—feeling shielded by him, feeling protected by him, somehow when he’s collapsed on top of her.  

“Breathing?” he asks her.

“Maybe,” she replies.  

“Hmm, guess I’m not done then.”  And, demon that he is, he starts sucking on her neck again, and pressing his erection into her leg.

The buzzer goes off.

“What the—” Ben starts to say as Rey interrupts and says, “Fuck, the food.”

He blinks at her, then starts to laugh.  “Great timing.”

She pushes against him and he sits up and a moment later she’s off the bed, opening the dresser drawer to grab one of his t-shirts and a set of sweatpants.  She catches his expression—pained, clearly, that she’s putting clothes on again—and she says, “Do you really want to answer the door with that?” she nods towards his dick.

“You make a persuasive argument,” he grumbles, still clearly displeased by the situation.  

“Take your pants off,” she tells him and darts out of the room to buzz the delivery guy in and collect their food, hoping it doesn’t look _too_ much like she’d just come really hard.

Food acquired and put in the kitchen, she strips off Ben’s shirt and sweatpants and throws them on the sofa before going back into the bedroom.  He’s lying back, lazily palming his cock, watching the door. His eyes roll slightly into the back of his head when she comes in with her tits out of her bra and nothing else on.  “I was worried you’d leave me for curry,” he half jokes as she clambers onto the bed and straddles his hips, enjoying the feeling of his dick sliding up and down her slit. His skin’s so smooth, and it feels fucking fabulous against hers right now as she ducks her head down to press a kiss to his chest.  

“Tempting as that was,” she says, “It’ll keep.  And I may be cruel, but you had a rough commute.”

“I really did,” he replies, his breath hitching as the tip of his dick catches against the edge of her entrance.  

She keeps kissing his chest, dragging herself lower and lower down his abdomen, licking her way between the grooves on his stomach and being very careful that there isn’t a second where his dick isn’t touching her skin, relishing the trail of precum he’s painting.  She looks up at him when it passes between her breasts and gives him a wicked smile and watches as his fingers tighten on the bedspread underneath him. If she had bigger tits, she’d press them together on either side of him and rub him between them, but she thinks that would look silly rather than sexy so instead she drops her head and swirls tongue over his head for a moment.

“Rey,” he groans, and she decides to be kinder to him than he was to her and sucks him in as deep as she can without gagging, hollowing out her cheeks and tightening her hand around the base of his cock as drool drips out from between her lips and down his shaft. He makes a noise low in his chest and his hands find her hair urging her head back up.  She licks along the vein until she’s reached his tip again, and she lightly twists her hand around his shaft—not enough to hurt, but just enough to pull his skin as she takes him back into her mouth.

She can hear how much he likes that in the garbled noise that emerges from his throat, can feel it in his hands tightening in her hair, can taste it on her tongue.  

She settles herself on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows as she continues to suck him, her hands alternating between his shaft, his balls, and tracing circles into the hair on his thighs.  Every time he spurts a little bit of precum onto her tongue, she circles her tongue over his tip and he groans and his hips leave the bed to push his cock deeper into her mouth. The third time he does that, Rey takes a leaf from his book and presses her hand onto his lower abdomen before hollowing her cheeks out again and taking him in as deep as he’ll go.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “Rey I’m close—I’m—”  She licks him and he moans and pants, and continues, “Rey—baby—I really need—”

But she just keeps going and she feels his hands tighten in her hair and he’s trying to pull away from her but she’s holding him down to the bed and a moment later he’s coming into her mouth in hot, thick streams.  She drinks him down, unable to remember the last time she’d sucked him off completely. He likes coming inside her, and so where his mouth on her almost always ends in her coming, hers on him rarely does. She licks him clean before looking up at him.  

There’s an odd expression on his face.

“Dinner,” she tells him, pulling him up to a sitting position.  “Then more.”

The odd expression melts into a snort.  “Of course you were thinking about food.”

“It’s important to make sure we’re properly prepared for all this,” she replies, climbing off the bed.  “Don’t worry, I am not done with you for the evening and this gives you some time to recover.” She bends over so that he gets a full view of her cunt and grabs the underwear, stepping into them again.

“So thoughtful of you.”

“Nothing if not caring.  And now you get to take these off for a second time.”

“Really trying to make up for that commute, aren’t you?”

She turns around.

He’s still on the bed and she tugs him to his feet and hands him his boxers, which he tugs on before pulling her to him and kissing her again.  His lips taste like her, and she is sure hers taste like him and she hums happily as she sucks his lower lip between her teeth.

“Curry,” she whispers to him, and he snorts and she leads him out of the bedroom, knowing he’s enjoying the way her ass is swinging in her underwear.  Her tits are still hanging out of her bra. She feels like she’s probably running the risk of getting food on them, but she’s sure that Ben will be more than eager to help lick it off should the need arise.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re going to regret eating that much,” Ben points out as Rey loads her bowl again.

“I’m really not,” she replies, taking a happy bite of her spicy pork.  “I never regret eating.”

“You’re the one who wanted a round two, you’re going to regret it if you cramp up.”

“I’m not going to cramp up having sex,” Rey snorts, taking another bite.  

“When was the last time you vigorously exercised—” he ignores Rey’s third snort of the past five minutes “—right after eating?”  Rey shrugs, and Ben rolls her eyes. “You’re gonna be breathless for all the wrong reasons.”

“You deny me food and so will you,” Rey says dryly and Ben chuckles.  He never eats as much as she does, but he’d made his way through a full bowl of curry and noodles as they’d sat at the table in his kitchen, basking in the post-orgasm glow.  

“Just so long as you promise not to vomit midway through.”

“I’ve had sex after dinner with you before, you know.  We have done this multiple times and I’ve never once been nauseous,” Rey rolls her eyes.

“Gentle sex,” Ben replies and there’s a glint in his eyes that sends a shiver up her spine and makes her nipples start to tighten.  “Or you being in charge sex.”

Rey arches an eyebrow.  “Are you saying you’re not going to let me take charge?”  One of the things she’s always liked about Ben in bed is that he follows her lead, that even when he’s leading, it never feels like she couldn’t—if she wanted to—turn the tables on him.

“You can try,” he says and again with that glint in his eyes, again with a promise in his voice.

“Maybe I will,” she says idly.  “Might be fun.”

“Exactly,” he replies.  “Fun.”

“Fun, that I’m not going to ruin by vomiting everywhere.  Because I’ve had sex on a full stomach before. And, honestly,” she looks at the state of the food cartons, “I’m not even as full as I could be.”

“You had thirds.”

“You’ve seen me put away more.”

“I love you.”  He’s laughing lightly, and leaning back in his seat, his eyes going so very soft.  “God, I love you.” It shouldn’t make her heart squeeze—a year with this man, and it shouldn’t make her heart squeeze like that, but it does.  

Rey ducks her gaze slightly, sucking her lips between her teeth.  “I love you so much,” she whispers. They stare at one another for a long moment.

“I’m glad you unpacked,” he replies softly.  “I’m glad you’re here and we’re—that we’re—” 

Ben’s not the type of person to struggle for words.  He’s always got something to say, even when it’s caustic and assholey, even when it’s tender and sweet.  But he’s stumbling for words now and Rey gets up and climbs onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes as the safe heat of him washes over her.  

“Me too,” she tells him, and he turns his head towards her and presses his lips to her forehead.  She tilts her head up and her lips find his and he tastes like curry and basil and it’s like the first time.   _ You’re not the only sentimental schmuck, _ she kisses into him, twining her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.   _ I love you so much it scares me sometimes.   _ Except it also doesn’t.  Because that’s always been Ben.  Terrifyingly unterrifying.

She can feel his groin start to shift underneath her and she smiles into his lips.  She had planned his refractory period very well.

“We should clean up,” she tells him.

“We can do it later.”

“Except we’ll forget and then I won’t have leftovers to bring to work tomorrow.”

She climbs off his lap, his hands trailing along her spine until she is out of reach, bringing the cartons to the fridge.  She hears the creak of the chair behind her, the clinking of bowls and the clatter of silverware and the running of the sink.  

He’s washing the bowls when she comes up behind him and wraps her arms around his waist and presses a kiss between his shoulder blades as he puts the bowls in the dishrack.  

He turns around in her arms and pulls her to her tiptoes to kiss him again.  His thumbs run along the sides of her ribs. He’d lost the earlier stir in his groin while doing the dishes, but he’s definitely starting to get hard again.  

“Now where were we?” he murmurs, a hand drifting up to one of her still-exposed breasts to squeeze lightly.

“Breathless,” she whispers in reply.  He groans into her lips, bends his knees and a moment later she is being lifted up, his hands under her ass and she snaps her legs around his waist and tightens her arms as he walks her, still kissing her, back to bed, only knocking into the walls twice which Rey considers to be quite an accomplishment.

When he has settled her back on the mattress, he leans forward and unhooks her bra before peeling her underwear down her legs again and removing his own boxers once more.  

He buries his face between her legs again, licking with abandon—quite the opposite of how he’d gone at it before dinner.  Rey grinds her hips into his mouth, spreads her legs as wide as they’ll go and does all she can to press her clit against his tongue.  She sighs as he slides two fingers into her and curls them up to stroke her g-spot. Her heart is singing, she’s sighing and moaning and her cunt is delighting in all of this.

Which is why she’s surprised when he stops.

Because he never stops.  

Not ever.

In fact, he frequently will just keep going until she’s come twice, because he says he likes to make her feel good, likes the way she tastes.

So him stopping and crawling up her body, propping her ankles up on his shoulders as he goes—she’s not quite sure how to react to that.  Which he notices in her face and starts smirking at as he bends to kiss her. He drops a hand down between them and a moment later she feels him rubbing the head of his dick up and down her slit, his eyes drifting closed for just a moment, clearly appreciating the sensation of it all.

She jerks her hips up towards him because it may feel great to him, but it’s teasing to her and if he’s not going to make her come, the least he can do is start fucking her with abandon the way he’d promised.  He opens his eyes, and smirks down at her again, and pulls his dick away.

“Oh you’re going to be this way, are you?” she asks in mock outrage.

“And what way’s that?”

“A complete tease,” Rey says, sitting up on her elbows. 

“I’m not sure I’d call the recipient of a pair of photos earlier today the biggest tease in the room.”

“Let me make it up to you,” Rey says dryly, and she slips her legs off his shoulders.  They catch at his elbows, and a moment later his hands are gripping her thighs and his lips are still twisted in that dumb smirk that she wants to kiss right off his face.  

So she does something stupid, but with a high potential payoff and hooks her legs as best she can behind his back and pushes herself up with her elbows.  It doesn’t quite work the way she’d planned—she’d envisioned a rather delightful acrobatic overtake of his position of power, but she throws off his balance and presses her advantage until she’s straddling his abdomen, his dick riding up the crack of her ass, his arms pinned weirdly between her thighs and calves.

Annoyingly, his grin only widens but at least she can lean forward and kiss him, hard.  Which she does, her tongue pressing between his lips to twine with his. She tastes herself there, stronger than the curry and basil now, and she almost loses herself to it, except that Ben’s trying to wrestle his arms free, and she decides she won’t have that.

“Really?” he asks, half laughing.

“You make it sound like it was always going to be easy.”

“Like what was always going to be easy?”

Rey shrugs.  It had seemed like a thing to say.  Which only makes him laugh, and kiss her again and—

“You  _ bastard! _ ” she shrieks because he’s gone and started tickling the soles of her feet—just about the only thing he could have done that would have made her rise up, lash out, trying to get her feet out of reach of his fingers and—faster than BB when he hears his food being opened—Ben’s hands are free.  One tangles triumphantly in her hair as he kisses her again, while he slides the other between her legs, pumping three fingers into her so fast she squeaks into his mouth. 

She can feel his exhaled laughter on her upper lip, can feel the way his lips are quirking upwards under hers and she bites his lower lip a little harder than she usually does.  It has the opposite effect of what she wants. He lets out a groan and he pulls his fingers out of her but she feels him fumbling with his dick and a moment later he’s pushing into her, sliding smoothly, filling her the way he always does.

She hates her traitor body for sighing with relief when he does it, but at least it’s not as obvious a sigh as his moan had been a moment before.  She’ll take that as he jerks his hips up into her, as she sits up to grind against him, arching her back and pretending that she is in complete control as her head falls to one side and her eyes close and Ben’s hands snake their way up her hips to brush against her ribs again.

“Do you know how incredible you are?” He sounds breathless when he asks her and she opens her eyes again.  He’s watching her, his eyes a little unfocused, and when their gazes lock, he stops moving his hips.

“Oh fuck you,” she growls out, which makes him laugh.  “How are you this—” she fumbles for words but is having trouble thinking, so she just lets out a frustrated growl, leans down to rest her weight on her forearms on either side of his chest, nips at his pecs for good measure before doing her best to make up for the fact that he’s gone super still and she wants to come.

“Shouldn’t have made me come earlier,” he teases her, running both hands through her hair.  “Took the edge off. Now I’m just having fun.”

Rey jerks her head up to look at him.  He’s giving her such a shit-eating grin right now that she truly can’t tell if she finds it adorable or infuriating.  Probably both. Why not both? It’s both.

So she does the only thing she can think of.  She stops moving too. She settles herself down on his chest, tucking her head under his chin and lies there on top of him—as though they are finished rather than barely started.

“Intriguing move,” Ben says after about two minutes.  He’s still rock hard inside of her, and it’s not as though she’s any less wet than she had been.

“I figured you were done,” Rey says innocently.  “Too much food or something. You feeling ok?” 

“Totally fine,” Ben says and he nudges his hips slightly.  “Best I’ve ever felt.”

“That so?”

“Mmhmm.”

“The best?” And she squeezes her cunt around him and he makes a surprised noise in his throat and a moment later he’s rolled them over and is tugging Rey’s legs up to his shoulders again and this time—oh this time he’s pounding into her, his thumb on her clit.  His breath against her forehead is hot, and ragged and he’s murmuring,

“The best.”

And Rey shivers as his lips drop to her neck, his body curling away from her slightly so that he can suck on her skin and her hands find his hair of their own volition, pulling it.  She sucks at his ear—the closest part of him she can reach and he groans again. “Rey,” he moans into her neck and he does something with his thumb that makes her gasp and—much to her own surprise—start to come.

It’s a light orgasm—lighter than the one she’d had earlier.  It’s as though he’s taken her body by surprise and it wasn’t ready, but there she is, her cunt rolling its way along his dick.  There’s no way he can’t tell that’s what it is, even if Rey is significantly more functional afterwards than she is after most of her orgasms.  Hell, she doesn’t feel even a little bit winded by it. It just happened, and now it’s over.

Ben does pause though, lifting his head up and flicking his eyes between each of hers.  She lifts her head to kiss him and a moment later he’s shifting her legs off his shoulders again.  “So that was not the effect I was going for,” he says dryly.

“I mean technically you did what you set off to do.”

“I promised you breathless,” he says.  “If you can still walk tomorrow, I’m not doing this right.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” she asks.  He considers for a moment—considers for too long of a moment because Rey rolls her eyes and pushes him onto his back again and straddling him and this time—this time he doesn’t tease her as she slides along his dick.  

She gets a little bit of what he means now—how coming took the edge off.  Even if it wasn’t a strong orgasm—and it really wasn’t—she doesn’t feel as needy for him this time, doesn’t feel as though she  _ has _ to come right now.  Oh, she wants to come again, and is sure she will.  But now she gets to luxuriate the feel of him, the stretch of her sex around his, the warmth of his skin, the scent of his breath.  She slows her pace—not to torment him—but because she wants to feel every centimeter of him with every thrust.

He seems to get that this time, because he doesn’t complain even a little bit at the pace she’s set.  On the contrary, his hands move slowly up her back, and then down again, rubbing over each bump from each vertebra.  Caressing, really. It feels loving. It feels gentle. When she looks up at him, he’s got this dopey smile on his face, and his eyes are so very soft and he lifts his head to kiss her.  This time, when she stops, it’s to freeze the moment. This time, when she stops, it’s because she wants to enjoy the way his lips make her feel and to not be distracted by anything—not even other ways he makes her feel alive.

His hands trace her ribs around to the front and his fingers start to circle at her nipples, twisting and pulling lightly, and Rey lets out a contented hum.  She lets him push her back up to a sitting position because he’s sitting up now, bending his head down as she continues to roll her hips over his so that he can suck at her breasts, his teeth grazing sensitive skin in the exact right way.  He does everything so well, so right. Everything about Ben had always managed to be just right. 

_ He’s mine,  _ Rey thinks,  _ I found him and he’s mine.   _

And she speeds her hips and arches her back to press her breasts closer to him and with the hand that isn’t palming her other breast, Ben begins to brush his fingers lightly over her clit again.

She moans and lets her head fall forward, resting her cheek against the top of his head and his lips leave her breast so that he can kiss his way up her sternum to her neck.  

This time, when she comes, it has her whole body shuddering as her heart floods her with heat and her clit throbs under his thumb.  This time, she melts against him, burying her face into the crook of his neck and letting her body just make noises until things settle and she realizes Ben’s kissing her shoulder, his hands on her back again.

He’s still hard.

How hasn’t he come yet?

_ Because you sucked him off,  _ she answers herself as she breathes.  

“How are you feeling?” he whispers.

She’s tired, she’s warm and fuzzy, she’s elated from coming three times since she got home.  But she says, “Still breathing.”

Which makes him chuckle huffily into her neck.  

“Well, I guess I’m not done,” he says, and Rey shakes her head.

“Nope, not done.”  She clenches around him again and his breath hitches.  

Carefully, he pulls out of her and she flops onto her back, legs spread a little bit, looking up at him through slitted eyes.  He kisses her stomach then rolls her onto it and kisses her back, kisses each vertebra until he’s reached her sacrum. He tongues her ass, making her squirm before he hitches her hips up in the air and runs a finger along her slit.  

“You look amazing,” he whispers.  “I love everything about how you look right now.”  Rey hums into the pillow and he runs a hand over the curve of her ass.  “I love your ass. I love it so much. And if I’d had a brain in my head I’d have bought more lube.”  Rey hadn’t realized they’d run out, though that would explain why he hadn’t nudged her for anal recently.  

“Another night,” she tells him.

“Oh yes,” he says, and bends his head to kiss one of her cheeks.  “Fuck, you look so well-used. All pink and swollen and beautiful.”  It’s two fingers now, rubbing along her slit, lightly circling her clit as though testing to see if it’s too sensitive.

Rey’s breath catches in her throat and she knows that Ben notices.  Ben notices everything—at least when she hasn’t got him on the edge.  How is he not on the edge? How is this—

But before she can finish the thought, he’s hilted himself in her once again, and he is well and truly fucking her now.  His thighs slap against the back of her thighs and she can feel herself dripping along his dick, down her legs. Her fingers tighten on the bedding, trying as hard as she can to just hold on.  Again and again and again he drives into her—first the tip of his dick  _ right _ against her g-spot before pushing in to find her cervix, and that pressure that reminds her of the joy of pressing her bruises.  The alternation between the two has her gasping into the pillows and it takes her a moment to remember to take deep breaths. If she takes deep breaths, she might be able to control herself.  

“You feel so good,” Ben groans above her.  “Fuck I love looking at your ass while I fuck you.  I love you so much, Rey.” 

Or maybe she won’t be able to, if he keeps saying things like that.

She wishes she could find words.  She wishes she could form thoughts beyond  _ oh _ and  _ god  _ and  _ that feels so  _ but she can’t, really.  All she can really manage to say is “Ben,” over and over and over again, muffled by the mattress and the pillows, and mixed in with her own groaning because fuck his dick feels so good like this, his hands on her hips the way his balls periodically swing far enough forward to meet her clit.  How is it that he keeps moving faster? Where did this energy come from?

_ Dinner _ , her mind supplies unhelpfully.  Or maybe just that he’s a sentimental schmuck in love and it’s their anniversary and he’d promised to fuck her into the mattress, to fuck her breathless, and she’s holding him to that.

Deeper and deeper he drives into her.  He’s stopped praising her, and the only sound in the room now is the sound of their skin, of how wet her sex is as she takes him in again and again, his ragged breathing, her moaning.

He squeezes her ass tightly with one hand while the other lets go and she doesn’t really understand why he’s letting go until she feels two fingers rolling her clit and that’s the last thing she remembers feeling because she’s coming so hard she thinks she might faint, might worry she would except she’s already on the bed and warm and safe and the only word she can think to moan out is, “Ben,” as her legs quiver beneath her, every muscle in her body warm, and rendered weak by this.  

A moment later he’s coming with a groan, his fingers tight at her hips, his cock pulsing deep inside her, and when she lets herself fall forward, he falls forward with her, pressing her into the mattress with his full weight as he shudders for air.

She can feel his heart hammering in his chest at her back.  It feels like it’s moving in time with hers as the aftershocks of her orgasm slowly grow more distant from one another until it’s just the two of them breathing.

“Holy shit,” Rey mumbles.

“Yeah,” Ben says.  

He doesn’t move.  Rey wriggles underneath him.

“I have to pee,” she whines.  She doesn’t really want to move, but exactly one instance of a urinary tract infection once she’d gone on birth control has her peeing religiously every time Ben comes inside her, even if she really does not want to move.

That makes him roll off her.  “Go pee,” he says, kissing her cheek.  

BB scratches the door as she sits on the toilet and she lets him in.  He rubs himself against her leg before hopping up on the sink and watching her.  “A really big cat tree,” she promises him. He does not seem to care and starts licking his stomach briefly while she wipes and flushes, and he trots after her into the bedroom, where she sees him go immediately into the closet and her plastic boxes full of clothes.

Rey flops back onto the bed and buries her face in Ben’s neck, her hand coming to rest lazily on his chest as she breathes in the scent of his sweat.  His heart is pulsing more slowly now, his breathing is more steady, and he wraps his arms around her, hugging her close to his chest and tugs a blanket over them.  

“Love you,” she whispers to him.

“I should hope so after that,” he teases before saying, more seriously.  “Happy anniversary.”

Rey hums happily, and kisses him until she falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hi here's my [tumblr](http://crossingwinter.tumblr.com/reylo).


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